


Heartless

by GoofyGoldenGirl



Series: Heartless| Soulless [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN, Accidents, Arguing, Backstory, Balloons, Bedtime Stories, Blackmail, Cat, Cheating, Confrontations, Dinner, Discoveries, Extramarital Affairs, Family, Family Drama, Fashion Week, Father-Son Relationship, Files, France (Country), Gen, Guilt, Infidelity, Injury, Lists, Married Couple, Modeling, Mother-Son Relationship, Neglect, Office, Origin Story, POV Multiple, Paris (City), Paris Fashion Week, Pet Cat, Pet Store, Phone Calls & Telephones, Photographs, Playing, Revelations, Robbery, Runways, Secrets, Threats, Worry, marriage problems, photoshoot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGoldenGirl/pseuds/GoofyGoldenGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>This is an origin story. </em><br/><em>It stars a family. A fashion designer, his supermodel wife, and their son. A look at their life within the course of five years.</em><br/><em>I never said it would be happy one. </em><br/> <em>I made a playlist for this series here: http://8tracks.com/goofyplaylists/heartless</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cat

_I've seen matching mother-daughter outfits but I don't think I've ever seen a mother and a son do one_ The pet shop owner thought as he watched the pair walk in hand in hand.

The woman appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, the boy around five. They both wore blue and white striped t shirts and white pants (she capris, the boy, shorts), and white sneakers to top it off. A silver necklace with a purple butterfly charm dangled around her neck. 

She was gorgeous. Tall, thin, with long chestnut brown hair that sat up in a high ponytail on the top of her head, bright emerald green eyes, and a beautiful smile. Her son had been blessed with good looks as well. He had his mother's eyes and smile along with fluffy blond hair and dimpled cheeks. 

The owner had seen the woman before. He was sure of it. It was at the tip of his tongue but for some reason he couldn't quite remember her name. 

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Can we see the cats?" The boy excitedly said.

Mother and owner chuckled.

"He's been looking forward to this all week," the mother informed him. Her voice reminded him of how actors spoke in old movies from the 30s and 40s. Calm and poised with an infliction that hinted at a high class status. 

"Alright then, right this way," he lead them to the back.

There were five remaining kittens from the litter. Mother and son oohed and aahed as they gazed into the box. The kittens jumped up.

"Hi there!" The boy giggled as he reached out to pet them.

"They're so cute!" She was just as entranced by the kittens as her son. Her hand curved over one of the kitten's head. 

It was a picturesque scene. A mother and son fawning over equally as photogenic cats. For a second the owner wished he had a camera on him to capture the moment. It would do wonders for his business if he used it as an ad… 

"Which one do you want Adrien?" The mother asked.

"The black one," he pointed at the kitten in the middle. It was a bit smaller than the others and had huge blue eyes. The kitten curled its head and rubbed it against the boy's arm.

"Aw it likes me," Adrien leaned in closer and tried to pick it up from the box.

"It looks like she does," the owner stepped in and helped the boy hold the kitten.

"She's a girl. What's her name?" The boy did not seem to be fazed by the fact that the kitten was female. 

"She doesn't have one. And you are the lucky one to choose it!"

The boy showed the cat to his mother.

"She's beautiful! Got a name for her yet?"

"I don't know," the boy answered. "But I'll think of something."

It was settled. They would pick up the kitten tomorrow at noon. The two wandered about the store and picked out supplies and toys that the kitten needed. 

She went to pay at the counter. It finally clicked as the owner glanced down at the signature on the receipt. 

_Marie Agreste_

Ah yes. Marie Agreste. She used to be known as Marie Dupont. He wasn't savvy when it came to celebrities and the like, but he knew that she was a model and was married to a famous fashion designer. 

He opened his mouth to ask, but found that the two were headed for the door.  
*****************************************************************************************  
"We got the cat today!" Adrien piped up at the dinner table. "It's a girl and she's black and has blue eyes. She's very pretty, you'll like her."

"Good. Good," his father Gabriel said mildly. "We'll name her Coco Chanel." 

"Well it is Adrien's cat," Marie pointed out. "He's going to name her. Aren't you?"

"Yeah," Adrien picked up his fork again. "How about Fifi?" 

"I like that," Marie agreed.

"But son, Coco Chanel was a famous designer."

"Gabriel--"

"And I always said that if we get a male his name will be Christian Dior. If it's a girl: Coco Chanel. Don't you want your cat to have a special name?"

"But I like Fifi," Adrien mumbled.

"Honey, we're not naming the cat after Coco Chanel," Marie said. 

"And why not? Coco Chanel is a French icon."

"It's _Adrien's_ cat!"

"I'm not letting our son name our cat Fifi! It's a childish name!" He exclaimed. 

"Well I don't want our cat to be named after someone who--"

Little Adrien didn't understand what exactly his mother was accusing this so called Coco Chanel person of, but it seemed pretty bad based on how his father was fumbling for a comeback.

"So what if it's just by association? People make a few mistakes Marie!" 

"You call that a _mistake?_ " She exclaimed. 

"You don't even have proof! It's just word of mouth!"

"It's common _knowledge_ Gabriel!"

"Well then, if it is, let's go _back_ in _time_ and ask her! Hello Miss Chanel, I'm your biggest fan! You have been the biggest inspiration in my life and I'd love to ask you about your work, but my _wife_ claims that you--"

"I want to name the cat Fifi!" Adrien shouted. 

He started to cry. The parents glanced at him and a guilty expression washed over their faces.

"Oh darling," Marie placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't cry. Don't cry."

She pulled him into a hug. Her fingers ran through his hair as she tried to calm him down. 

"We'll name the cat Fifi," Gabriel sighed. 

They went back to eating in a tense silence.


	2. The Balloon

Adrien made a face as his mother's stylist moved in with the makeup brush. He coughed as a cloud of beige dust impaired his vision and sent flyaway particles up his nose. 

"It's ok," the stylist assured him. "It's only powder. Your mother uses this all the time."

He looked over at his mother who was conversing with his father about adult things.

"Honey, I've been looking at a few primary schools and I--"

"I don't want him in school," he interrupted.

"Not even private?" She was surprised.

"He'll be fine with a tutor. Out there you can't trust anyone. What if one day the paparazzi show up at his school? And then they come to our front door?"

"Honey I think the paparazzi have enough sense to leave us alone when it comes to our child," she said. "I think you're being just a bit paranoid. It's not like we're living somewhere like the UK or the States." 

"The paparazzi are paparazzi everywhere you go," he answered. "You can't stop the vultures from hovering over fresh meat."

The stylist did her finishing touches and removed the towel from his shoulders. Adrien stood up and walked over to his parents.

"My oh my do you look handsome!" His mother exclaimed.

He was wearing the newest suit from the Agreste children's line. A black blazer with matching shorts, along with a silk white shirt and black paten leather shoes. His hair had been slicked back into a 50s style haircut.

"You look perfect," his father approved of the look. 

They went into the basement where the photographer was setting up his camera. A black backdrop leaned against the wall at the end of the room surrounded by two overhead lights with a black armchair in front of it. A red velvet sofa, a fake street lamp, and a box of balloons lay on the other side of the room.

"Ok Adrien," his father piped up. "I want you right here in the chair."

He directed his son to his spot and positioned him the way he wanted. The boy was then handed a red balloon. The photographer got into place and turned on his camera.

It was the biggest and most beautiful balloon the boy had ever seen. He let out a giggle as he reached out to touch it. His fingers poked against its shiny and smooth surface. He burst into a smile. One of his front teeth had fallen out a few days earlier leaving a big gap in his grin. 

"Adrien don't smile."

That confused him. Everyone told him to smile for pictures.

"Why?"

"This is an important photo. It's going in _Vogue._ "

"People don't smile in _Vogue_?"

"Adrien I don't have--"

"You can smile like this," his mother demonstrated a toothless smile.

"Later. Later," Gabriel waved his hand. "Adrien, I want you to look as serious as you can."

"Like you?" He asked innocently.

That was a mistake. His father's cheeks began to turn red. His lips curled into a sneer as they parted to reveal pointy shark like teeth and a rumble of a sound that threatened to explode once it hit the surface. Adrien imagined steam rising from his ears and nostrils as the man took a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. 

"Yes," he curtly said. "Yes. Now look up."

Adrien did so. The photographer was about a foot away from the chair.

"Up! Look up!" 

A flash of white. Adrien shut his eyes and tensed up.

"No! No! Don't close your eyes! You can't close your eyes!"

Adrien opened them. He glanced at his mother who gestured to him on how not to blink when the camera went off.

He did as she said. The camera went off a few times. Tears began to stream down his face.

"You're ruining your makeup!" Gabriel shouted. He motioned to the stylist to get rid of the streaks of eyeliner and blush off his son's cheeks.

The boy's face was attacked by wipes, brushes, and pencils. He was then pushed back to the set and given the next set of directions. 

The next two hours were a blur. 

"Stand on the couch!"

_Click._

"Reach out for the balloon!"

_Click._

"Curious! Look curious!"

_Click._

"One foot on the lamp!"

_Click_

"Straighten your posture! Don't slouch!"

_Click._

"Adrien look here! Look at mommy!"

_Click._

"Now move your hand like you're letting go of the balloon!"

_Click._

"Don't actually climb the pole! I don't want you messing up these clothes!"

_Click._

"Somebody fix the lights!"

_Click_

"Put a hand on the balloon!"

_Click._

"Somebody tape the balloon to the floor!"

_Click._

"Look behind you! Turn your head to the right!"

_Click._

"I want a different angle!"

_Click._

"Grab the balloon!"

_Click._

"Smile! Smile!"

And even though he held the balloon like he was giving it a hug, Adrien forgot for a second how to smile. Then he gazed over at his mother. She was smiling at him. His eyes lit up and his mouth slightly opened.

_Click._


	3. The Bedtime Story

Before Adrien went to bed, his mother read a story to him. Even though he was already six and starting to read on his own, bedtime stories were a beloved ritual that he wasn't going to give up so easily. 

His favorite stories were the ones with heroes. The setting would be the battlefields of medieval Europe of the streets of modern day cities, but they were always the same. A noble hero, defends his land, his people, his honor against the schemes of a powerful villain. He faced a hard fight, and even when he was down on the worst of luck, he always triumphed over the villain at the end.

And always after his mother finished the book, Adrien would pipe up:

"One more please?" With a toothy grin. 

Or he'd pick up the cat Fifi who was resting beside him and say:

"Fifi wants to hear another story."

Marie laughed as she set the book down.

"Little heroes also need their sleep. That's how they get strong," she told him as she pulled the covers over him.

"Am I a hero mama?"

"Of course," she said. "Everyone is a hero if they believe in themselves and they want to do good."

She smoothed his hair back and kissed him on the forehead.

"Goodnight Adrien. I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too mama," he kissed her on the forehead in return. "I love you too Fifi," he kissed her on the top of her head.

"Sweet dreams. Come along Fifi," his mother picked up the cat and headed out. She turned off the lights and closed the door. 

That night his mother was reading to him in English. Learning another language was an important skill, his parents claimed, and it was best to start young. His mother spoke fluent English both from years of study in school and from the many photoshoots and runaways she worked on in the UK and United States. Tonight's story was _Madeline_ by Ludwig Bemelmans and Marie sat on the bed next to Adrien as they looked over the book:

" _In an old house in Paris that was covered with--_ "

_"Vines,"_ the boy said in his best English.

_"Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines…_ "

He loved to listen to his mother read. She had a enchanting voice. With a sound, the illustrations popped out of the page. The characters came to life as they acted out in front of his eyes as if they were in a movie or a play. When the story was happy, she was happy. When it got sad, she was sad. When an action scene or suspense came into play, she kept Adrien sitting upright against his pillows, tugging at the corner of the page, wondering what was going to happen next.

" _The smallest one was--_ "

"Madeleine!" Adrien exclaimed in French. He pointed to her picture. "That's her!"

It was supposed to be _Madeline_ but she let it slide. 

Fifi meowed. Adrien rubbed her head before they continued on.

As Marie read, Adrien finished the rhymes and added commentary to the story. He let out _oh no's_ when Madeline's appendix ruptured, cheered when he found out that she was ok, oohed when she showed off her scar, and laughed when the other girls wanted their appendixes removed as well. It must have been about twenty minutes later when they reached the last page. 

_"And that's all there is. There isn't anymore,"_ They both said at the same time.

Marie closed the book.

Adrien looked up to see that his father was watching them. It was rare that he came to tuck Adrien in. He either stayed up late to work more or went to bed early after a long day.

"Father!" He exclaimed. "Were you listening to mama too?"

"Of course I was," he said with a smile. 

It was also rare that Gabriel smiled.

"Your mother's an excellent storyteller."

"You have to be to tell a good story," she said.

His father walked over to the bed.

"Did you know Adrien that I taught your mother English?" He asked.

"No you didn't," she said teasingly. 

"Well maybe a phrase or two," he smirked.

"That doesn't count Gabriel."

"Oh really? How about this one?" 

He said something in English to her in a low voice. She giggled. Adrien was confused, but happy at how his parents were getting along.

"Ah Mr. Agreste you never change," she tilted her head and leaned in.

They kissed. It was a quick one, but Adrien noticed that their lips touched for a second time before they both finally pulled away. They hadn't kissed in a while. They used to kiss a lot in the past that he couldn't recall. It was nice to see them kiss again. 

Adrien smiled.

"Time for bed," his mother went through the ritual of tucking him in, with a kiss on the forehead, and an _I love you._ For a second it looked like Gabriel had his hand out to ruffle his hair, but instead picked up Fifi and placed her on the floor.

Gabriel placed his arm over Marie's waist as they walked out. She turned off the lights. Adrien fell fast asleep.  
*************************************************************************************************************************  
It was somewhere around 11:00 pm or 12:00 am when Adrien heard a creak come down from the hall. He sat up in bed and listened. Footsteps. Barely audible, but still there.

He quietly got out of bed and tiptoed to the door. He opened it just a crack. He saw the silhouette of a woman against the wall; tall, thin, her hair up in a high ponytail making her way down the hall. It was his mother.

He followed her to the stairs. She had a small bag in one hand, and her other was absentmindedly twisting and turning the butterfly necklace she always wore. She was just as light on her feet as he was and had reached the bottom within a matter of seconds.

Adrien looked out from the railing as he watched his mother head to the front door. A click, and she was out.

He sat there, trying to process what happened. Sleep threatened to overcome him once more and after nearly ten minutes of staring, he dragged himself back to bed.

Later when he woke up in the morning, he thought it was all a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Obviously I do not own the Madeline series by Ludwig Bemelmans. I don't know why I'm putting a disclaimer on a fanfic series but oh well, you can never be too careful_


	4. The File

The afternoon dragged on. Twenty four year old Nathalie Sancoeur envied everyone who had already left for the long weekend. She wished she could leave early, but alas, she was only a secretary. The only other person still here was her boss Mr. Agreste, an obsessed workaholic. If he didn't have standards, he'd live in his office and never leave.

The files lay on her desk. She picked them up and headed over to his office. The door was wide open. He was on the phone.

"I told you, I don't know what time I'll be home."

He glanced up and motioned for her to come inside. She did and started to set the files on his desk. 

"I'm busy Marie. I have several files to go through and I think one's missing. It's very important, it's the one about next season."

"I have the file right here sir," she flipped through the files and began to pull it out. 

Mr. Agreste ignored her.

"Just--just tell the cook to just heat dinner up for me when I get home ok?"

A pause. He listened.

"I love you too."

He hung up and turned his attention towards her.

"Um sir, I couldn't help but hear your conversation," she started as she took the file in her free hand and held it out to him . "But I have the file right--"

His hand was on hers. 

"Don't worry about the file," he said.

His slowly removed his hand, trailing his fingers against the curve of her hand.

Their eyes met.

Mr. Agreste was well known for his cool demeanor. His neutral setting was a gaze that bordered on freezing. If one crossed him (if they dared) a fiery glare preceded an explosive temper or an ice cold stare that gave way to silent treatment. The look he gave her at that moment was something she had never seen. It was like if a hot flame struck a block of ice; melting it into a puddle with steam rising from where it stood.

Nathalie turned away and left.  
****************************************************  
Six am was an ungodly hour for a photoshoot. The sleep deprived models huddled close together as their stylists hovered over them. They enviously eyed the catering table filled with fruit, coffee, and croissants. If Nathalie had to guess, they were told not to eat until the shoot was over so they wouldn't look bloated. 

She was put in charge of the catering service. After telling them where to set up and collecting the payments, she handed out waivers to the models. 

"Sign here please," she said to each one as she handed out the packet and pen. It was difficult to get a legible signature from them but anything would do.

She went over to her boss who was chatting with one of the stylists.

"Yes, yes, my family is doing good. My son just turned seven," he told the stylist. "My wife had a bad wrist, but she's better now." 

"Aw," the stylist said sympathetically. "Well tell her I said hello. I miss working with Marie, she's such a dear." 

Mr. Agreste looked up and saw her approaching them. 

"Ah Nathalie! She's my secretary," he mentioned as an aside to the stylist.

"I have the payments and contracts here sir," she handed the envelopes over.

"Good…good. One less thing to worry about. Could you get me some coffee?"

"Sure," she answered. 

"You know, you look good in red," he said just as she was about to leave.

"Excuse me?" She stopped in her tracks and faced him again.

"That shirt you're wearing. Red's a good color on you. Red suits her; don't you agree?" He asked the stylist. 

"Absolutely," the stylist nodded. 

"Brunettes can never go wrong with red," Mr. Agreste added. "A classic combination. Very sexy." 

"Er--thank you Mr. Agreste," she was a bit flustered. 

"You don't need to call me Mr. Agreste. Call me Gabriel," he said with a wink. 

She blushed. He turned his attention towards the rest of the crew:

"Alright everybody!" He exclaimed as he clapped his hands. "Let's get started."

Nathalie returned with the coffee just as the shoot was about to begin:

"Your coffee Mr.--"

He had that look in his eyes again. And his lips curled up into what looked like a smirk.

"Gabriel," Nathalie swallowed back the beginning of a giggle in her throat.  
***********************************************************************************  
Another slow morning. She had just come back from mailing the vouchers and was about to go back to her desk when Mr. Agreste called out:

"Nathalie!" 

She went to the door. A fashion mannequin stood in the far corner. Papers filled with sketches littered his desk. He was over at the closet.

"Yes Mr. Agreste?"

He made a sound as if to correct her with a _please, call me Gabriel_ like he always did but instead said:

"Could you do me a favor? Can you try this on?"

It was a crimson red sheath dress. Nathalie didn't remember seeing this particular design in the files. She wondered if he had made it on his own time.

"It's pretty," she remarked.

"You want to try it on?"

"Sure," she took the hanger and headed to the door so she could change in the bathroom.

"You can change here," he stopped her. "I'll wait outside."

The modeling industry desensitized one to nudity. Models paraded in various states of dress and undress on the catwalk to be shucked out of their clothes between each outfit backstage. Girls stripped down to next to nothing for fittings to get the best measurements. Designers and stylists poked and prodded at bodies to get a sense of the best way to drape a woman's shape with fabric. Privacy was unheard of and a foreign concept. Mr. Agreste was showing her some courtesy. 

"Thank you."

He closed the door. She stepped as far away as she could from the window and removed her shirt and trousers. She folded and placed them neatly on a chair before pulling the dress on.

She was alone but felt that she was being stared at.

There was a photograph of his wife and son on his desk. It must have been taken at least a year earlier. The boy's head rested against his mother's shoulder. She leaned in towards him so that their heads touched. They were calm. Happy. Loved.

Their eyes were judging her.

Nathalie didn't know what to think of Mr. Agreste. Yes, he was an attractive man. If he were single, around her age, and not in his early forties, she might flirt with him. But he was married. His wife was beautiful. His son adorable. He had no reason to flirt with her. Then why did he?

She turned away from the photo and went to zip up the dress. It was jammed. 

A knock.

"Come in," she said.

He entered the room.

"Ah!" He exclaimed.

"Hang on, I-I just have to zip this up," it was stuck down the middle of her back and hard to reach.

"I'll do that."

He got behind her. His hand gripped her shoulder as his fingers tugged the zipper up. His body jutted in and she felt his breath on her neck. Goosebumps prickled on her skin. 

_Zip_

Mr. Agreste stepped back and glanced over her.

"Perfect! Lovely! You look gorgeous!" 

"Thank you," she managed to get out.

"You can keep it if you want," he said. He turned the doorknob handle again. "You can change here again, or why not wear the dress for the rest of the day?"

"Can I at least see how it looks on me?"

He directed her to the mirror he kept in his closet.

She did look stunning.  
*************************************  
It was six pm. Most of the employees had already left. And once again, it was only her and Mr. Agreste in the office.

Nathalie had to pick up some files from his office. He was at his desk.

"Ah Nathalie. I've been waiting for you," he greeted her. 

"I'll take these," she leaned forward to grab the stack of envelopes. 

He pushed them towards her. His hand ran over hers.

Nathalie's heart began to pound. She felt her cheeks turn red. A rush of adrenaline pumped through her veins. She felt an urge to break the desk into tiny pieces and jump into his arms, and another to run as fast as she could from him and never look back.

She blinked, still unsure of what her response would be.

"I'll just send them down to the third floor and I'll be on my way," she picked the files up. "See you tomorrow Gabriel."

He noticed.

"See you… unless Nathalie dear…" 

He got up from his chair.

"You'd care to join me?"

Her heart beat faster. She stood frozen in her spot and stared at him with an expression of disbelief, longing, and worry. 

_That's all I want Gabriel_ One thought rang in her head.

_But you're married and you have a son_ Was another. 

"But the files--" she blurted out. 

"Forget about the files."

He was right in front of her. Their faces were inches apart. 

His sharp hawk like gaze made his blue eyes nearly pop out of the rims of his glasses. Every single line and angle was visible on his cheekbones, forehead, and jaw. Nathalie gasped as his thin pink lips puckered up and pressed against hers. 

And the next thing she knew… 

The files fell to the floor.


	5. The Accident

Adrien peeked out from his room. He adjusted the black mask's strings so it sat behind his ears and said:

"The coast is clear!"

He stepped out and removed his toy sword from the belt loop on his jeans. 

"Come on Fifi!" He called out.

The cat joined him.

"Now Fifi we gotta be quiet. We can't let the enemy know we're here."

She glanced up at him with a blank look. 

"It's a su _pawse_ attack. Get it? Su _pawse?_ "

Fifi did not seem to be amused by his cat pun. 

"Come on!" 

Boy and cat crept down the hallway to the stairs. 

"There are so many guards," Adrien remarked as he clutched the railing and looked out. "There's two, two, another two. Do you think we can fight them all?" 

Fifi meowed. 

"Ok! We'll count to three. One… two… three… Charge!" 

Adrien bolted down the stairs with a war cry. Adrien waved his sword in the air and hopped back and forth; jabbing to strike and raising his arm to block their hits. Fifi ran about his feet. Soon with a pant, Adrien wiped his brow and looked towards the entrance to the castle. 

"Quick! Before they get up!" 

They ran into the dining room. 

"It's The Masked Man and his cat! It's Me and Fifi!" Adrien exclaimed in a singsong voice. "And we're gonna save the day!" 

The room was empty and left untouched except for the sewing patterns and sketches for Gabriel's latest project on the dining room table. Fifi jumped up onto one of the chairs and curled up. 

"The evil king's hiding something here," Adrien said. "Let's look." 

He crawled under the table. 

"Nothing here." 

He crossed over to the buffet cabinet and opened the drawers. 

"Nothing here either. Don't you want to help me Fifi?" 

The cat decided to take a nap. Adrien went on with his search. 

"Ah ha! A map!" Adrien picked up one of the sketches on the dining room table. "It says that the evil king will invade tomorrow! He has the jewels! The magic jewels of destiny! And…he's gonna kill our queen! Fifi! We must tell everybody! We must prepare for battle! We--" 

Adrien froze. He turned around and drew his sword again. 

"You won't get away with this!" He defiantly addressed the king. "I, The Masked Man, will save the kingdom and stop you!" 

He and the evil king began to fight. They were both matched in strength and the fight was a difficult one. Adrien ducked, fell, and blocked with his arms and legs as well as his sword. 

"Ha! Ha!" 

The noise woke Fifi up. She jumped off the chair and darted out. 

"Take that! And _that!"_

Adrien lost his balance. 

_Crash_

_Rip_

His sword cut through the air. Torn patterns and sketches scattered all over the floor. 

"Oops!" Adrien exclaimed nervously as he got to his feet. 

"What the hell is going on?" 

His father stood in the doorway. He surveyed the damage with one look and let out a shout. 

"What have you **done!** " His father screamed. 

"It--it was an accident!" Adrien sputtered. 

"Do you know how hard I've **worked** on this?" 

"I-I-" Adrien took a step back. 

"I spent **three** months just planning this out! **Now** what am I supposed to do for fashion week?" 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Adrien began to cry. "I won't do it again!" 

"All of my work is **ruined!** " 

Gabriel grabbed Adrien by the shoulders and roughly shook him. 

"You've ruined **everything!** " 

Gabriel's normally pale face had turned purple. Adrien's ears rang with his shouts. Through his tears he saw his father raise a hand… 

" **Gabriel!** " 

His mother was there. 

Gabriel let go of him. Adrien stumbled over to her and fell into her arms. He let out a muffled shriek into her shoulder. 

"Adrien," she held him close and her fingers ran though his hair. "What happened?" 

"I-I was playing and I-I bumped into the table--and I cut the patterns with my sword!" Adrien sobbed. "I didn't mean for it to happen!" 

"Listen," she lifted up his chin with her hand and wiped a tear from his eye. "You have to be very careful around your father's things. Your father takes his work very seriously and he's a bit stressed with all the shows coming up. He didn't mean to shout at you. Right dear?" 

"Yes, I-I apologize," Gabriel said sheepishly. "I'm sorry Adrien. But--" 

"I'm sorry too daddy!" Adrien had not called his father _daddy_ since he was four. "I'm so sorry!" 

"Come," Marie took him by the hand. "We can still fix these. Let's tape the patterns back together." 

She and Adrien walked out. Gabriel let out a sigh and bent down to pick up the patterns from the floor. Mother and son returned with tape and got to work. 

"You know. I wasn't really going to hit him," Gabriel muttered to Marie. "I wouldn't hit him; he's my son." 

She blinked. Her cool emerald eyes stared into his icy blue ones. 

"I know." 


	6. The Photographs

Nathalie clutched the strap of her handbag as she approached the hotel front desk. No one was following her but she glanced back every second or so out of habit. Her heart pounded as she put a hand on the desk. She forced herself to look into the eyes of the attendant to give an impression that her intent here were pure of heart.

"Excuse me? I'm looking for my husband. He got us a room." 

"Name?"

"Sancoeur," the only truth to come out of her mouth.

"Room 310. He checked in about thirty minutes ago Ma'am."

"Thank you."

She turned.

"Enjoy your evening," the attendant said.

She nodded at him before heading to the elevators.

_I hope_ Was the thought that ran through her mind.  
**********************************************************************  
_Even with her glasses off, the photo of Marie and Adrien still haunted her._

_No matter where it stood on the desk it was always in her line of vision. The black frame sharpened at the corners like a knife. Sunlight bounced off the photo's glossy film. Their green eyes glowed like a cat's in the dark. Their warm and innocent smiles warped into twisted sneers as she imagined them taunting:_

_**Homewrecker** _

_**Bitch** _

_**Whore** _

_She could face him, turn her head away, or close her eyes, but it did nothing to erase their presence. The little 5 x7 picture on his desk was determined to make her feel as miserable as possible during the encounters._

_It wasn't long until he caught onto Nathalie's uneasiness._

_"What's wrong?" She wasn't being receptive that evening._

_"Nothing… it's… it's silly really. It's just the photo," she tried to play it off as something insignificant._

_"Photo?"_

_"The one on your desk. It makes me uncomfortable."_

_**Your wife and child watch us ruin their lives Gabriel** She wanted to say. _

_"This bothers you so much?" He picked the photo up without a glance. "I'll take care of that."_

_He placed it photo side down on his desk._

_"There. No troubles. Now where were we?"_

_It temporarily helped._  
**************************  
_Nathalie thought it wasn't fair that she was organizing his desk. Yes, many secretaries did clear up after their boss when it was needed, but did the ones who were involved with their boss really need to take on such tedious tasks?_

_Luckily for her, Gabriel was a neat freak. All she had to do was to move some files into the cabinets and make sure she left everything else in place just as he wanted._

_Files labeled A-F went in the first drawer. G-M in the second and so on. It was boring. She wanted to give it a half hearted job, but she cared about too much about him to risk anything._

_One in the first pile. The other the second. She let her mind wander as she sorted them. She almost didn't give them another glance until she got to the one in the middle._

_It was a plain manila folder with **Marie** written in black cursive letters._

_It could cost her a job. It would be fuel for a perfect scandal: Affair revealed between Mr. Agreste and Secretary due to the latter snooping on files about his wife._

_But curiosity got the best of her. She opened it._

_A collection of modeling and private photos;polaroids to be exact. The first from 1997. Marie looked young, about eighteen or nineteen, but was as gorgeous as always._

_There were inscriptions on the bottom of each one._

_Haute Couture gowns and dresses._

_**Marie, my muse** _

_Casual clothes._

_**You are beautiful** _

_Bright eye popping colors. The dark hues of the lingering heroin chic movement._

_**My little butterfly** _

_A Party. A runway. A cafe. A studio._

_**You make men fall to their knees** _

_Chanel, Dior, Givenchy, Saint Laurent._

_**My one and only love** _

_The beginnings of the Agreste line._

_**You are the sun, moon, and stars in human form** _

_Marie smirked at the camera as if to seduce the viewer._

_**Men sigh over Rose and her diamond necklace. I, sigh for you and your butterfly one** _

_A sketch of a suit and dress outlined and colored._

_**We'll wear this one day** _

_A hand over a bare baby bump. The photo dated 2001._

_**Marie as your name implies, a wonderful mother you will be** _

_Her purple-silver butterfly necklace popped out against her skin._

_**Marie** _

_Her eyes sparkled and shone brighter than any light in the background._

_**Marie** _

_And she smiled and smiled at the man who made her feel like a queen._

_She was happy. She was beautiful. She was loved._

_Nathalie's heart raced as she dropped the photos back into the folder and closed it shut._

_She left it on the desk for him to decide what to do with it._  
******************************************************************  
_Noon. Nathalie was checking her email when she heard a distant echo down the hall:_

_"But what if he's not here?"_

_A child's voice. It was rare that children came up to this floor. Most of the models went straight to the set._

_There came the familiar thud of high heels hitting the floor followed by softer footsteps. The doorknob turned._

_They looked like they had jumped straight out of the photo._

_Nathalie felt panic as Mrs. Agreste and her son came up to her desk._

_They certainly looked nice for this surprise visit. She was wearing a white skirt and a purple top, with shoes in the exact same shade. The butterfly necklace lay against her chest. Her son was dressed in a white Ralph Lauren polo and kakis._

_"Hi," Marie greeted in a warm voice. "We're here to see Gabriel."_

_"We're taking him out for lunch. It's a surprise!" The boy informed her._

_"Give me a second," Nathalie reached for the phone. She pressed _1_ and waited._

_"Hello?"_

_"Mr Agreste. your wife and son are here to see you," she tried hard to keep her tone steady._

_"Very well. I'll be out."_

_She hung up._

_"How long have you been working here?" Marie asked her._

_"Um, a year ma'am," Nathalie quickly responded._

_"A year? You're a success!" She said as she examined the office. "He's very tough on his secretaries. Well you must know that already. Not a lot of people can handle him."_

_"Y-yes," Nathalie avoided her stare._

_Gabriel walked out._

_"Ah Marie! Adrien! What a surprise!" He took his wife's hand and kissed it and made somewhat of an effort to pat his son's shoulder._

_"I've got everything taken care of," Marie said._

_"We're going to that place you like," Adrien added._

_"How sweet of you," Gabriel told them. He smiled._

_Nathalie stood up._

_"Excuse me," she hastily said._

_She let her hands drop to the bottom of the sink basin as cold water ran over them. She lowered her head and splashed some water onto her cheeks, being careful not to hit her glasses._

_With a shaky breath, she looked into the mirror._

_Did he even care? How could he go on and act as if everything was normal? Did they even suspect that he was unfaithful? She couldn't even hold herself together. She wanted to stay locked up in the woman's and loathe herself for the rest of the day for all the hearts she'd break and---_

_The door creaked._

_Nathalie straightened her posture. She turned off the faucet. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a packet of Listerine strips._

_Marie entered the restroom._

_"Hi."_

_"Hi," Nathalie shoved a breath strip in her mouth._

_"Oh my god! I use those too!" Marie exclaimed as she pointed at the packet._

_"Yeah?" The minty flavor tingled inside her mouth._

_"Those things are a lifesaver!" Marie gushed. "Can't brush your teeth before the shoot? Ate way too much garlic? S--"_

_The breath strip turned sour. She nearly gagged as her hand curled into a fist, and she felt the urge to drop the packet to the floor as if it were a hot poker._

_Marie was too busy laughing at her joke to see Nathalie's reaction._

_"Ah! I'm so sorry," she chuckled as she apologized. "I just say whatever comes to my mind. I didn't offend you right?"_

_"No-no, you didn't, it's just I--I--"_

_**I do that to your husband** _

_"I nearly choked on this breath strip."_

_"Oh."_

_"I have to get going," Nathalie said._

_"So do I. Talk to you later!"_

_Marie went into one of the stalls. Nathalie fled back to the office._  
************************************************************************  
306…308… 310.

Nathalie's hand formed a fist. She rapped her knuckles against the door twice.

"Gabriel," she whispered.

A click. He stood there only in a purple bathrobe.

"Nathalie."

He grabbed her waist and pulled her in.

"There's no photos right?" She asked.

"Why would there be?" He lifted her chin up. "There's only me, a nice bottle of champagne, and a king sized bed waiting just for you. There's no reason to get nervous over nothing."

The door shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a playlist for this series here: http://8tracks.com/goofyplaylists/heartless


	7. The Runway

####  March 2009

Paris Fashion Week marked Marie Agreste's return to modeling after an eight year break. 

Word got out when a couple of insiders at the Agreste company leaked it to several tabloids.

Husband and wife made it official during an interview with one of France's most popular fashion magazines. 

"I can't wait!" Marie exclaimed. "Gabriel and I have been planning this for months."

"I am happy that she's back," he added as he took her hand. "The runway hasn't been the same without her."

"So what new styles from the Agreste line will you be wearing?" The interviewer asked.

"I can't give that away. It's a surprise," Marie said with a laugh. "But it is _beautiful._ "  
**********************************************************************************************************  
Marie and Adrien arrived three hours early and were ushered backstage. They made their way through the groups of models, stylists, designers, and dressers getting ready for the show.

"Try not to stare dear," Marie told him as he glanced back at one of the half dressed models.

"Don't they get their own spaces to change?" He asked.

"Not everyone does," Marie said. "We do because we're guests." 

They dressed in a curtained off area but even then they had no privacy. The dressers helped them into their outfits while the stylist paced back and forth with his assistant.

After three years of being a model, Adrien had gotten used to the excess attention. He kept still as they styled his hair. He did not flinch once. 

Adrien got a quick glance at his mother before makeup was applied. She was chatting with the stylist as he straightened her hair with a flat iron. They were laughing about some show back in the 90s. She looked pretty. 

"We're doing foundation with sharp contouring," the stylist ordered the assistant who was working with Adrien.

Fingertips pitter pattered over Adrien's face, spreading the cold beige foundation on his skin. He stared forward and suppressed an urge to blink. 

"How sharp for the kid?"

"Try to make him look at least five years older but don't go overboard." 

In came the brush with the powder. Adrien's nose twitched but he forced himself to hold a sneeze in. 

The assistant reached for a makeup palette and liquid eyeliner.

"Close your eyes and tilt your head up," he told Adrien. 

Adrien did as he was told. 

"You're doing a good job," the assistant said. "You're sit better than some of the models I've worked with before. And they're adults."

"Thank you," Adrien replied.

When it was all over and done, Adrien peeked out from behind the curtain. He caught sight of the catering table and took a step out.

"Adrien we have to stay here," Marie said. "We can't let anyone see our outfits just yet when the reporters are back here. Claude will get food for you."

"Ok." 

There was an hour left until showtime.  
********************************************  
One of the perks of working in Gabriel's office was a free admittance to any runway show that the Agreste line participated in, along with full coverage on travel and hotel fees. 

Besides Paris, Nathalie had attended shows in New York, Berlin, Milan, Madrid, and London. When she was not needed, she took advantage of her free time to explore the city she visited. Museums, parks, monuments, restaurants; they were a well needed break from her hectic running around backstage. 

It was easier to be closer to Gabriel during these trips if he traveled without his family. He always made sure that their hotel rooms were right next to each other. He was more openly affectionate towards her than back home. A hand on her shoulder or waist as they mingled during the after-parties, him leaning in close as they looked on a show together, a flirty comment or two, a kiss on the cheek. Once, she and Gabriel walked hand in hand on the streets of New York.

When the week was over, he gave her clothes fresh off the runway despite the strict rules on how they were distributed and used post show. 

"Wear this and remember," he'd tell her with a wink.

Things were different if Marie and Adrien came to see a show. He had to keep up appearances and so did she. They were more professional towards each other when they interacted. Gone were the cushy benefits. She sat several rows behind while his family sat right next to the runway. Their rooms were on separate floors, and there was no chance she, a secretary, could get into after-parties when he brought his wife along. 

That didn't stop them from meeting up. One time after inspecting the models backstage, he took her by the hand and led her to one of the storage closets. Another time, they were desperate enough to settle for a curtained off area.

"What if we get caught?" She breathed.

"Oh that's simple. You're a model. I'm just helping you get dressed. And if that doesn't work, bribes come in handy."

This fashion week would be the first show that Nathalie would see his family participate in. 

She sat in the front row next to Gabriel's entourage, journalists, and A- list celebrities.The lights dimmed. The soundtrack; a slow guitar riff with a backing synth beat was cued in. The first model walked out.

Purples. Reds. Blacks. Knee length dresses. Flowing skirts and tight tops. Velvet blazers and trousers. Polka dots and butterfly patterns. High cheekbones, pale cheeks, shapeless bodies, and stoic expressions. They slowly made their way down the runway before showing off to the crowd and heading back. 

Sixteen minutes passed. The show was nearly over and the final two stepped out.

It was Marie and Adrien. They were holding hands.

Nathalie's jaw dropped. 

They were wearing the designs she found in the file months ago. 

They were clad in purple. Marie, in a strapless floor length gown that highlighted her hourglass like waist and shimmered under the spotlight. The boy, in a silk suit with black leather gloves on his hands. A base of purple face paint and eyeshadow formed a mask like shape around and on the eyes with a layer of glitter on top. Red blush popped out on exaggerated cheekbone lines. Her lips were a deep red. His, were a neutral color. Her hair had been pulled up into a high bun, while his had been slicked back. And as always Marie wore her butterfly necklace. 

Gabriel strutted out in a black tuxedo. He took Marie and Adrien's hands as the rest of the models filed out. They bowed to the crowd's applause. 

Nathalie went backstage after the show. Gabriel was with his wife and son. 

"You were fantastic!" He was pleased. 

He grabbed Marie by the waist and kissed her. He moved to Adrien and squeezed his shoulder. 

_Do you know that I tainted his lips before he pressed them to yours?_ Nathalie thought. _And that those hands have wrapped around my waist countless times?_

She swallowed her guilt back as she went up to happy family. 

"Ah Miss Sancoeur!" Gabriel exclaimed.

"You did a great job!" Nathalie told mother and son. "You stole the show."

"Thank you!" They both smiled at her.

It was the only kind thing she could do for them.


	8. The Hurt Leg

Her leg was still hurting.

Marie thought she could sleep off the pain when she hobbled into bed at around 3 am in the morning. She crashed as soon at she hit the mattress and now she was being rustled from her sleep by her husband.

She groaned as she heard him get up and walk over to the windows. He opened the curtains. Sunlight streamed in.

_It's Saturday_

She glanced over at the clock. Seven in the morning. Of course he was up. Late to bed and early to rise.

Oh well, if she was up, she was up.

Marie wished she could sleep in. She almost missed it when Gabriel was off at a conference or other because it meant she could sleep as late as she needed.

She gingerly lifted herself up. Pain shot through her leg. 

She grimaced.  
****************  
The family sat together at breakfast. Gabriel sipped on coffee and nibbled on toast. Adrien reached out to take a second croissant from the platter. Gabriel raised an eyebrow. 

"The shoot Adrien," he said sharply. 

"Another croissant isn't going to kill him Gabriel," she muttered.

Adrien glanced at her then took the croissant. He broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth. 

Marie and Adrien were flying to the UK the next day for a Burberry photoshoot on Monday. It wasn't a rest but at least it would give Marie some time for her leg to recover.

She tiredly stirred her spoon in the cereal bowl. She didn't feel hungry. 

"What's the matter with you today?" Gabriel asked. 

If she told him that it was her leg it would lead to many unwanted questions.

"I have a little friend Gabriel," she said flatly.

That shut him up. 

"A little friend?" Adrien piped up.

Oh dear she didn't think this through. 

"It's nothing," she said.

_Ouch._

She still smiled.

She should go easy on herself. She shouldn't exert herself so much, especially before a shoot. She wasn't exactly _that_ young anymore.  
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************  
Marie took two painkillers mid morning. She lay on the den couch and tried to watch the news. 

Fifi was napping on the floor, curled up into a little ball. Marie envied her. Animals had it so easy. They didn't worry. They could eat and sleep whenever they liked. Maybe she should take a cue from the cat and treat herself to a nap.

She was starting to doze off.

**Breaking News: Robbers take bank hostage on---**

She almost woke up.

_Ignore it_ Came a voice from the back of her head. _Ignore it._

Sleep overcame her.  
***********************  
She was feeling a bit better by noon. She helped Adrien pack his suitcase.

"You don't need to take so much. We're only staying for two days," she put the stack of extra clothes to the side.

"But I want to take this shirt," he pulled out a red t shirt from the pile.

"Ok. Ok. Let's put it in."

She folded it and placed it in the suitcase. 

"Will there be any kids there?" He asked.

Even if he took a twice a week fencing class and socialized with other child models on sets, Adrien still didn't have a real friend. He talked a lot about other boys and girls he got along with but any plan to get together never fell through. From surprise photoshoots, the parents' apprehensiveness about having a celebrity over at their house, to Gabriel's paranoia about letting strangers into the house and attracting the paparazzi, Adrien did not get the chance to develop a bond outside of a structured event. Lately he had been getting antsy. Whenever he was in a bad mood he took it out on her and the staff. Whining, complaining, acting rude, and throwing fits. During the worst cases, he'd have a full on tantrum like he did when he was young.

Marie wasn't sure how most eight year olds acted when they were upset but they figured they were better behaved than her son. Even if he kept his troubles at home and was starting to manage his feelings in a more proactive way, she still worried that he was lagging behind socially. 

_What will happen if kids start making fun of him?_

_Will they think I'm a bad mother if they knew what he's like when he's angry?_

_We should have put him in school_

_What if one day he starts acting out in public?_

_Is this just a phase?_

"I don't know," she said. "But I do have a friend in London who has two kids close to your age. Maybe we'll see them.

"Cool!" It was the best news he heard all day.

It saddened her.  
********************   
Saturdays usually meant that she and her old friend Julia from her modeling days at Chanel met up for coffee but since she had a flight the next day, they settled for a phone call.

Another good reason to lie on the couch and place ice on her leg. 

"You are not going to believe this," Julia started. "So Carla--"

"Queen bitch Carla?" Marie asked. The name of Paris' most annoying woman got her intrigued. " _The_ queen bitch Carla?" 

"Yep--get this--so like--I stopped by the Laurent headquarters yesterday and guess who I run into?"

"She's actually trying to get into modeling? I thought her big shot husband at city hall was enough trouble for everyone!"

"No, but I do run into---António Cardozo."

"The Brazilian model? What does have to do with Carla?" 

"So--I like start talking to him right? And he said that he wouldn't be modeling in France anymore. Wanna know why?"

"Come on Julia get to the point, what does this have to do with Carla?" Marie exclaimed.

"They're screwing."

"No!" Marie was shocked.

"Yes!" Julia laughed. "And her husband found out! So apparently they're gonna divorce and she's planning on going to America with him."

"Doesn't she have a kid though?"

"I know! She's leaving the kid behind isn't it _horrible!_ "

"Oh my god," Marie sat back onto the couch. "That is _horrible._ "

Julia still laughed. 

Gossiping wasn't as fun as it was when she was young. Why did she even bother listening to whatever rumor Julia heard. It was a spiteful, shallow thing. She felt the person's pain even if it was someone she despised. Even though she and Julia both survived the backstabbing, gossip, and cliques of the fashion industry, Julia had not come to the same realization as she had.

They were both thirty.

"They paid off so much money to the tabloids so they could keep quiet, I am actually amazed that I found this out--"

"If this is true, then _god._ " Marie sighed.

"Karma was coming for her Marie. She got what she deserved!" 

Even if Carla was a cheating snobbish bitch, and her husband a dull, pompous dick, they didn't deserve that.  
*****************************************************************************************************************************  
It was ten pm. The pain in her leg had all but disappeared. Marie took off her butterfly necklace and placed it in its jewelry box on the nightstand. She picked up Fifi and walked over to the window.

She stared out, taking in the beauty of Paris at nighttime. The lights and buildings called out to her; begging, pleading, nearly crying for her.

"Not tonight," she whispered at the window as she stroked the cat. "But I will be back."

She set Fifi down on the floor. She tucked herself into the empty bed.

"Goodnight," she turned towards the nightstand. Her hand reached out and touched the top of the box.

She closed her eyes and let herself sleep. The box felt warm underneath her hands. She felt it vibrate… 

_Goodnight_


	9. The Threat

That Michel Tailler man who had been lurking about the lobby for the past week managed to barge into the office.

He looked to be about twenty- five or so, about medium height with delicate features. Underneath his arm, he carried an orange envelope filled to the brim with papers. 

"Please, I just want to speak with him," the man said. 

"I'm sorry but Mr. Agreste is busy," Nathalie cooly replied. "If you wish to make an appointment--"

"Nathalie what is that man doing here?"

Gabriel stepped out from his office. 

"Mr. Agreste, do not get me wrong I'm a huge fan of yours---" The man started. 

"And here we go again," Gabriel muttered. "Nathalie call security."

She picked up the phone and dialed _0_. 

"I've looked up to you since I started designing and I'd like to think that this is all just a big misunderstanding but I couldn't help but notice that several pieces from your spring collection bore a striking resemblance to the ones I premiered at--"

"Mr. Tailler I do not have time for this," Gabriel bluntly said. "I am a busy man."

"But if you look here--" Tailler pulled out the envelope and began to flip through the papers.

Two guards came in. They grabbed Tailler by the arms.

"Hey! Let me go!" The envelope fell to the floor. "You have no right to do this!"

"Again; you are wasting my time," Gabriel glared at him.

"He stole my designs!" Tailler shouted as security hauled him out. "He passed them as his own!"

Nathalie kneeled down and picked up the envelope.

"Could you put that in my office?" He asked her.  
*******************************************************  
Nathalie browsed the news on her computer during her downtime. 

_\---has just announced that the Charles De Gaulle airport will be closing at 23:00 tonight as concerns about volcanic ash--_

_Thank god we're not traveling this week._ Nathalie thought as she watched the video. _Gabriel would raise hell if a flight got delayed or canceled._

She scrolled down the front page. More countries closing airports,updates on the volcano in Iceland, scientists weighing in on the potential damage…had the reporters forgotten that the news wasn't limited to just one story?

She was at the end of the page when she saw:

**Mysterious Vigilante Charms Paris**

Vigilante? This was new.

She clicked.

_Paris is the city of light. Love. Vigilante justice? That is what many are claiming as investigators are looking into the identity of a possible superhero._

_They say when the sun sets she spreads her wings. She flies over the city and descends into the shadows. She attacks when evil strikes and woe to those who stand in her way._

_"I don't know who she is, but she's certainly helping us a lot," a police officer said. "Crime has decreased within the past two years."_

_"She saved my life," a young woman between the ages of sixteen to twenty- six said. "I was walking back to my place and the next thing I know a guy is holding a knife at me and threatening to cut me open unless I hand over my purse… And then she just swoops down from the sky!"_

_Witnesses say that she is tall,slender and dons a purple costume. They describe her fighting technique as light and quick, with a touch of grace._

_"She's like a bird--no a butterfly!" The young woman exclaimed._

"Nathalie? Can you make a few copies of these sketches?" Gabriel's voice cut through the audio.

"On it," she clicked out of the page and got up from her desk.  
********************************************************************  
Gabriel as always was busy. The mother was occupied with gigs of her own so Adrien was saddled with Nathalie while he waited for the next photoshoot.

They sat in the hallway. He studied the apple in his hand. She stared ahead, not even acknowledging his presence. 

Everyone said that Adrien was the splitting image of his father, but all she saw was a mini masculine Marie with blonde hair.

She watched as people passed them. Did they think she was a babysitter or nanny? An older sibling or relative charged with his care? Perhaps even his mother; another one of those girls who got pregnant too young?

Once a upon a time when she was just a little girl Nathalie dreamed of what her future might bring: a successful job, marrying the man of her dreams, a child or two who looked exactly like her. Her naiveté made her want to laugh. Here she was at twenty- six: sleeping with her boss, ruining his marriage, and she was sitting right next to his child and pretending that all was normal.

Why didn't she do the right thing and break it off with Gabriel? Was it more than just the lust they felt for each other? That she was just as selfish as he was and was using him to get access to the perks and benefits of being rich? Was it that deep down she still believed in prince charmings and happy endings? That maybe those fleeting, tender words he whispered when they were alone could _actually_ mean something? That he'd leave his wife and they'd ride off into the sunset?

Adrien's voice interrupted her thoughts:

"Miss Sancoeur you want this apple?"

Nathalie looked at him.

"No--no thank you," she quickly said. "You're not having it?"

"I'm not hungry."

She shrugged. The boy talked to her. She had to engage.

"Looking forward to the shoot?" She asked.

"It's like any other shoot," Adrien said. "It's not that exciting. You just do it. Have you ever done a photoshoot?"

The one time in Milan shouldn't count. Yes it was just for his private collection, but Gabriel went out of his way for it. From the lighting, the high tech camera, to the lingerie he picked out. She remembered how she giggled as he told her to pose with that smirk on his face. It was fun. They both had fun… 

"No," she lied. 

"Excuse me."

A man's voice. It sounded familiar. 

"You're Agreste's son aren't you?"

Tailler. Nathalie instinctively pulled Adrien towards her.

"Could you give your father a message from me?" He continued. 

"You leave his son out of this," she sternly shot back.

They got up and Nathalie led Adrien down the hall by the hand. 

"Little Agreste!" Tailler followed them. "I just want you to tell your father that he's a lying, stealing--"

" _You get away from my son!_ "

Gabriel was behind Tailler. In a swift movement he grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"Just who the _hell_ do you think you are?" Gabriel shouted. "You--"

Nathalie covered Adrien's ears. Tailler sunk back into the wall, shaking, as Gabriel kept on screaming. His whole face turned purple as he ended his tirade with:

"If I see you anywhere _near_ my family I'll **kill** you!"

Gabriel let go of him. He stormed off.

"Come on," he muttered as he pushed both her and Nathalie forward. "This piece of--"

Nathalie saw Adrien's eyes widen.

"Isn't worth our time."  
***********************************  
Tailler threatened to press charges. 

Nathalie stood by Gabriel's side as he received the call.

"Look Tailler," he started. "You're how old? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? You're _young._ You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Suing _me_ will damage whatever little career you have. And I daresay, a promising one too;I've read what the critics had to say about you. Idealism will get you nowhere boy. In the fashion business it's _kill_ or be _killed._ "

"Let me give you a little example of what will happen to you if you let your foolishness get the best of you. I will let slip to the press about that little coke problem you have. They'll have a field day. Little by little, they'll pick apart at the pieces that are your life. People will be lining up for tell all interviews, and I promise you I'll be the first up and you know what I will tell them: _Oh he had such talent. It is a pity that he snorts himself into a stupor, that may explain that time he tried to attack me and my son._ And with those few words, you're _done._ You'll fade into obscurity. You'll become _nothing._ "

Nathalie heard sobbing on the other end.

"And for the record, I didn't _steal_ your designs, I was simply _inspired_ by them," Gabriel said.

"Please. Please don't do this to me.." Tallier whimpered.

"I hope that this is our last conversation. If not, you'll be hearing from my lawyer."

Gabriel hung up.

"Thank god that's over," he sighed. "Now where was I?"

He reached for two sheets of paper and placed them in front of him. One was a sketch by Tailler of a pink dress. Another was Gabriel's copy, completely identical except for the butterfly pattern on the skirt.


	10. The Robbers

_Meow_

Adrien opened his eyes to find that Fifi was sitting on his chest. Her blue eyes glowed in the dark. 

"Fifi I'm trying to sleep," he shut his eyes.

He tried to turn onto his side but Fifi wouldn't move. She nuzzled her nose against his.

_Meow_ She lifted her head up.

"Fifi," Adrien groaned. He began to sit up.

There came a thud from the hallway.

He picked up the cat and tiptoed to the door.

"This way! This way!"

It was an unfamiliar male voice. His father was out for the weekend. The staff did not work overnight shifts. It was just him and his mother. 

Adrien cracked the door open and peeked out. A dull yellowish light moved about, bouncing off against the walls. Two large shadows passed his door.

He shut the door and leaned back against it. He held Fifi close to his chest.

"Fifi; there are robbers in the house," his voice shook.

Fifi meowed again. His hand lightly pressed down on her fur.

"What--what do I do?"

She leaned her head against his chest and rubbed it against his pajama shirt.

"What about mama? She's probably sleeping and doesn't know. I have to tell her."

Adrien set Fifi down on the ground. He walked over to the closet and took out his foil sword for fencing and a pair of slippers. 

"I'm gonna go out there," he petted Fifi one last time. "If I don't come back soon go call for help."

He kissed her on the head and crept into the dark. His left hand held onto the wall to guide him while his right was at the ready. His heart pounded rapidly.

_Inhale_

_Exhale_

_Inhale_

He heard something at the end of the hall.

_Inhale_

_Exhale_

_Inhale_

He lifted his arm. The figure had its back to him. It turned to face him.

Adrien pointed the sword straight ahead, ready to strike if he had to.

"Adrien?"

He looked up and gasped.

It was her. The purple lady. The superhero who fought crime by night. She was in his house. She was standing right in _front_ of him.

"Miss Purple," he lowered his sword. "It's _you._

She chuckled.

"How--how'd you get in?"

"A little butterfly told me that this house was in danger. So I flew in to see what was the matter."

"There are two robbers.They just went that way," he pointed towards the stairs. "I was gonna go fight them. Me and my mom are the only ones here--"

"Don't worry," she crouched down and placed a gloved hand on his cheek. "I'll take care of that for you. You and your mom can rest easy."

"But I can help you!" He exclaimed. "I know every inch of this house. I'll show you the best places to attack from and--"

"Maybe another time," she smiled. "But I want you to be safe for your mom ok? Stay in your room."

"Ok," he said. "But take my sword. It'll help."

He handed it over to her and placed his hand over hers.

"You can just leave it by my door when you're done," he told her.

Her green eyes met his.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Adrien watched from his bedroom door as the superhero made her way down the hall. He waited with Fifi by his side with an ear against the door; listening to see if he could hear the fight, but sleep overcame him at last.

"Adrien? Adrien?"

He awoke. There was a thump at his door. Police sirens blared from outside.

"Mama?" He called out.

He opened the door. Marie stood there with a bathrobe over her pajamas. She embraced him.

"Oh Adrien," she whispered as she stroked his hair. "Thank god! Thank god you're ok!"

Fifi pawed at the foil that the superhero left on the ground.  
**************************************************************  
_Inhale_

_Exhale_

_Exhale_

His cellphone rang.

Gabriel groaned. He groped about the nightstand for his phone. He didn't bother turning on the light.

"Hello?" He sounded too alert for someone at 1:00 am in the morning. 

"Gabriel? Honey? There were robbers at our house," Marie's voice came from the other line.

"What?" He sat up straight and held the phone closer to his ear.

"Oh god there were--two of them and according to police they came in through the back door and were going about the second floor. But you know that superhero? She caught them and phoned the police. They arrested them just now."

"Was anything stolen?" He asked.

"No. She stopped them before they could even get their hands on anything. Gabriel, it's a _miracle._ "

"Miracle--yeah," he breathed.

"Are you ok? You seem a bit out of breath."

"I just woke up," he lied. 

"Ah, sorry--"

"No, no don't be. I'll come as soon as I can."

"Great! I'll be waiting. Night."

"Night."

He hung up.

"Who was it?" Nathalie asked.

"My wife. Some bastards tried to rob our house." 

"Oh god. You better go back."

"It can wait," he said.

"Ok."

He reached for her.

_Inhale_

_Exhale_

_Exhale_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I did a little drawing of one of the scenes from this chapter here: http://goofygoldengirl.tumblr.com/post/138037265302/but-i-want-you-to-be-safe-for-your-mom-ok-from_


	11. The List

When Adrien was nine he made a list of all the things that he knew that adults wanted to keep secret from him.

It started with the basics:

_1\. Papa Noel and la pettie souris don't exist_

_2\. When the cook says he's making a special surprise he's cooking brussel sprouts_

_3\. There is no secret chamber behind the painting in the den_

_4\. If someone says the food is quite exquisite they really mean it tastes gross_

_5\. The third drawer in father's study is always locked_

_6\. I know that ---, ---, and --- are bad words_

_7\. Photographers edit photos on the computer so they look better_

_8\. When my tutor scratches behind his ear when he's explaining things it means he doesn't know anything about it_

_9\. When you cross your eyes they always uncross back_

_10\. Fifi had an operation so she can't have kittens_

_11\. You can't dig a hole to China_

_12\. The paparazzi are always mean even if they are nice_

_13.When adults say that everything's fine it really isn't_

_14.Father only cares about work_

_15.Sometimes heroes don't always win sometimes they die fighting so things can get better_

_16.My mother doesn't have a little friend_

_17.Adults don't think kids are smart_

_18.My parents don't get along_

_19.My father stole money from another fashion company_

_20.If you pretend to be really sad in a photoshoot the pictures come out better_

_21\. Mama sneaks out of the house at night and comes back early in the morning_

_22\. I don't think my father likes me_


	12. The Discovery

"No I don't understand. I didn't purchase this."

Adrien was eating a snack while his mother was talking on the phone to the credit card company. She glanced back at her laptop as she listened to the person on the other side.

"No. There's no way my card got hacked. I'm very careful."

Adrien took another bite of his cookie. He chewed slowly. 

"The last thing I bought with this card was a _sweater._ I _didn't_ buy that _set._ "

A set of what? He tilted his head as he listened on. 

"I'm sorry, my son's in the room," she apologized. "I'll--I'll call again another time…Thank you for your help."

She hung up.

"What set?" He asked.

"Um," she avoided looking directly at him. "It's just that someone might have gotten into my card to buy… underwear."

"Underwear?" Ten was the age where anything related to bodily functions or private parts was considered to be the most hilarious thing in the world. "They used your card to buy _underwear?_ "

He burst into giggles. His mother couldn't help but smile. 

"Well at least _you_ have a sense of humor," she said with a chuckle.  
****************************************************************************************  
His father was in an unusually good mood that evening.

He waltzed into to the house at an extremely early time of 5:30.

"We are going out to dinner tonight!" He exclaimed. "This calls for a celebration!"

"What happened?" Adrien asked.

"Oh god," Marie breathed. "Gabriel I can't _believe_ you."

"It couldn't get better! First that idiot gets himself arrested and now Dior forces him to step down! Oh at the rate that this is going I'll be the top designer in France!" His father's voice echoed from the cellar below. "If I wasn't so attached to my line, I'd bet I'd be the first runner up for his replacement!"

"Gabriel," Marie hissed. "What kind of an example are you setting for our _son?_ "

"First, let's make a toast to that he's put in jail and rots forever!" Gabriel reappeared with a bottle of champagne. "How about it? Champagne for us and coke for the kid."

He thrust a coca-cola can at Adrien. He opened the champagne bottle and distributed it into two flute glasses.

"Honey you're being so immature right now," Marie sighed as she was handed a glass. "You're acting like you're in _high school._ You're _forty-five."_

Adrien was too busy guzzling down his coke to even care about his father's rival or behavior.

"Don't drink before a toast! It's bad luck!" Gabriel barked at him. 

He raised his glass.

"To Galliano's decline! May he fall into obscurity and _stay_ there!"

He clinked his glass against Marie's and Adrien's can. He drained half of his glass. Marie sipped on her champagne.

"Um Gabriel," Marie said. "Have you been having trouble with your credit card? I think my card--"

"Not now sweetie. I'm in a good mood," Gabriel dismissed her. "It can wait. I just want to savor this moment so I can remember it forever."

He finished his glass and poured himself another one.

"Now," he smacked his lips. "What restaurant do you two want to go?"  
*******************************************************************************  
He was in a middle of a history lesson when the doorbell rang. Adrien perked up and turned his head towards the hall.

"Adrien pay attention," his tutor told him. "Now. Whose assassination triggered War World I?"

"Franz Ferdinand," Adrien answered.

"What major power was he from?"

"Austria-Hungary."

"Julia what is it that you couldn't tell me on the phone?" He heard his mother's voice accompanied by footsteps.

"Not here. The den," her friend responded. 

"What country helped Austria-Hungary when it declared war against Serbia?"

"Come on Julia it's just me, you, and Adrien in this house. The tutor's here too but he doesn't count."

"No. We have to be alone," she said in a hushed voice.

"Adrien?" His tutor said.

"Julia what's going on? You've never held back when telling me anything. What is it?"

"It's probably nothing," Julia started nervously. "It's really probably just a stupid thing. But I was at--"

"Adrien!" The tutor slapped his hand on the table. "Pay attention and answer the question!"

"Um? Brazil?" Adrien blurted out.

"No!" The tutor exclaimed frustrated. "Brazil doesn't have anything to do with World War I at _all!_ It's _Germany!_ "

Marie and Julia were long gone.  
*************************************  
His mother had been the face for the Agreste line since its inception, but now she seemed to throw herself into work for it more than ever.

Photoshoots, shows, consulting appointments, interviews, she jumped at any opportunity she got to go to Agreste headquarters. She left with his father in the morning and returned late at night every single time.

She used to go in twice a week. Now it was anywhere from three to five combined with photoshoots she had planned with other fashion lines.

Sometimes if he was lucky Adrien would see her in passing when he had a photoshoot to attend for Agreste. Otherwise it was late at night just before he went to sleep. He had long outgrown the bedtime ritual of being tucked in, but he hugged his mother goodnight before going up to his room. 

Sometimes when she arrived very late, he woke up to her presence by his bedside. She smoothed out his bangs and kissed his forehead.

"Goodnight Adrien. I love you," she whispered.

He didn't want to tell his mother that he wanted her to stay home more often. That would be selfish. She had to work and work was something adults had little control over. Like, how he had to do photoshoots for a certain brand or other even if he thought their clothes were ugly or uncomfortable. 

So he spent his days alone; patiently waiting for her to come back.  
************************************************************************  
Adrien toted his fencing bag over his shoulder as he walked through the door.

"Mom!" He called out. "Mom I'm home!"

Her cheery voice didn't greet him back.

"Mom? Mom I'm home!" He shouted.

One of the staff came by.

"Where's my mom?" He asked.

"She went upstairs."

Figuring she was in his parents' room, he headed there.

He passed his father's study.

"Mom?"

She was sitting in the computer chair with her back turned to him.

"Mom?"

The computer looked like it had been used. The third drawer that was always locked had been pulled out. 

"Mom?"

"Adrien?" She didn't turn around. Her voice sounded choked up, like if she had been crying.

"Mom are you ok?" He asked, worried.

"I'm fine," she was lying.

He took a step towards her.

"Is your father coming home tonight?" She asked.

"Yeah. He's coming at ten…ish I think," Adrien said.

She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes were red. Black eyeliner streaks ran down her cheeks.

"Ok," she said.  
************************  
His bedtime was at nine.

Ten to, he peeked into his mother's room. She had barricaded herself up there all evening. She told staff that she was ill. 

She looked a little better though. She smiled when she saw him walk in with the cat.

"Adrien," she said tenderly.

They embraced.

"Hi mom. Are you feeling better?"

"As I can," she said.

"Do you want to sleep with Fifi tonight?" He offered.

"No thank you darling. I'll be ok."

She cupped his face and stared into his eyes. Her lips puckered up against his forehead.

"Goodnight sweetie. I love you."

"I love you too mama," he kissed her on the cheek.

Adrien picked Fifi up.

"Come on Fifi! It's bedtime!" He exclaimed as he rubbed her head. 

He went out, making sure to close the door behind him.


	13. The Necklace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _Black and it's white_  
>  _Everything's white_  
>  _But it's blacker than I know_  
>  _And blacker than the white of the snow, yeah_  
>  _And I'm thinking I..._  
>  _Oh, no..._  
>  Lurk **The Neighbourhood**

Without missing a beat, he took the keys out from his coat pocket. He slid it into the keyhole and turned. The door opened with a slight click.

The darkened house greeted him. It was exactly ten on the dot. His son would be sleeping. His wife, getting ready for bed.

Gabriel quietly made his way up the stairs to his study. He flipped the lights on and left the door open a crack. He set his briefcase down by the desk and sat back in the computer chair. He started to slide in as his hand hovered over the computer mouse. 

"Gabriel."

He heard a creak. Marie's voice came from the doorway.

"Hi honey," he didn't turn around. He clicked on the internet to open his email. "How was your day?"

"How could you?" She said angrily.

"How could I _what_?" Marie got pissed over the stupidest of things.

"Don't play dumb with me I _know_!"

"Know what?" What was it _this_ time?

"That you're _cheating_ on me you _asshole!_ "

The chair spun around. Marie walked into the room, wearing the same outfit she had on when he saw her last that morning: a pair of gray skinny jeans, a form fitting purple shirt, and the butterfly necklace she never took off. A little black shoebox was in her hands.

_Oh no._

"How did you get that?" He exclaimed.

"Well a little _bug_ told me to check your _study!_ "

She dropped it to the ground. He let out a shout.

"You--you don't know what--"

"I went through that box Gabriel! I saw everything! The receipts, the pictures, the video--" She started to cry. 

He kept his expression stoic. His heart sunk; from the guilt of being caught or of having hurt her, he couldn't tell. 

But he forgot how beautiful Marie was. Even now when she was acting hysterical, there was a beauty in the way the light reflected off her and highlighted her features. 

"Why? _Why?_ " She blubbered.

God that killed it. She just _had_ to revert back to acting like a bitch. For the millionth time Gabriel wondered what compelled her to act so _confrontational_ about _everything._

He loved her. It wasn't the same feeling that made him fall head over heels when he first saw her at that Chanel shoot fifteen years ago when she was all of seventeen, but it was there. She just made it so _hard_ for him to properly _feel_ it. 

"I thought you loved me!"

"I do--"

"Is it really _love_? Is it just a _game_ for you?" 

"I've always loved you!" He was losing his temper. She was being so _childish._

"Then _why_ do you treat me like a _trophy wife_?"

"I don't treat you like some common _whore_ " He shot back.

"Well what about your _secretary?_ Does she _know_?" Marie yelled. "Does Sancoeur know you're _using_ her for sex? Or have you convinced her that you actually _care?_ "

"I'm a _man_ Marie! Do you expect me to _control_ myself?"

"Don't give me that bullshit! You and I both know what you are and that's a _coward!_

He was on his feet.

"I want a divorce," Marie threatened. 

"We can't get a divorce! You'll be committing professional _suicide_ if you even _try_!" His hand clenched into a fist.

"Oh, so _I'm_ the one who will be _disgraced?_ What about the man who is _cheating_ on his _family!_ I'm sure the public will have _so_ much sympathy for him!" She sarcastically exclaimed.

"I've had it! I'm leaving you Gabriel! And I'm taking Adrien _with_ me!"

Silence. Gabriel's expression changed from shock to anger in a matter of seconds. He took a step towards her.

"You won't take him," he said in a low voice.

"I **will!** "And I'll make sure he'll know what a **real** childhood is like! Instead of being shuffled from one shoot to the next to then be **shut** in this **house!** "

His face flushed a deep red that bordered on purple. Bluish veins popped out on the sides of his face. He lunged and grabbed the silver chain around her neck. He yanked it off.

She screamed as she fell to the floor.

His fingers slipped. His shoe crashed down on the butterfly charm, shattering it into tiny pieces. 

"What have you done? What have you **done?** " She howled. Blood dripped from the little cuts where the metal scratched her. 

A strange black electricity sizzled and cackled in between the pieces. Gabriel's fingers curled and stretched. He felt an urge to touch it.

One finger made contact with the charm.

All went to black.  
*************************  
He came to a blinding white light. Gabriel squinted through the cracks in his glasses to see hundreds of black butterflies swarm around the room. He frantically called out:

"Marie! Marie!"

He began to crawl. His bloodstained hands batted the butterflies that blocked his way.

"Marie!"

His knees sunk into something warm and sticky on the ground. His right hand grabbed onto something soft and solid.

"No-- _No_ \--"

It was her.

"Marie!"

He roughly picked her up and shook her.

" _Marie!_ Marie _say_ something!"

She wasn't responding. Her emerald eyes were glassy. Her full pink lips parted forever into a shout. Her skin felt lukewarm.

" _Say_ something Marie! _Anything!_ Even that you _hate_ me! Say something _GODDAMMIT!_ "

He lowered his head close to her neck. The tears welled in his eyes. 

"My little butterfly…"

It was his turn to cry. He embraced her body as he screamed:

" **Marie! MARIE!** "

He heard a meow at the door.

The strange black energy swirled in front of his eyes and pierced his skin. He let go of his wife and faced his new adversary. 

_The cat_

All went to black again.


	14. The Collaborator

Nathalie was roused from her sleep at 1:00 am in the morning by a bluish glow and a buzz.

She hastily put on her glasses and picked up her cellphone. 

"Hello?" She said groggily. 

"Nathalie I need help," his voice came from the other line. "Come quickly."

"Gabriel it's--"

"This is an _emergency._ "

Nathalie sat upright at the edge of the bed. Something must be terribly wrong if Gabriel, who was so in control over how he presented himself, had a drop of _fear_ in his voice.

"I'll be on my way," she told him.

"Thank you," he was grateful. It scared her.

The conversation ended. She hoisted herself up and walked over to her closet to throw on something to wear.  
***************************************************************************************************************************  
He beckoned to her to pull into the driveway. The headlights shone on him.

His shirt sleeves were ripped and the front of his shirt was covered in half dried bloodstains. His wife's necklace dangled from the shirt pocket. His glasses were shattered and his eyes diluted. 

Was he high?

Drug addiction was a prevalent problem in the fashion industry but Nathalie figured that Gabriel cared too much about his image to even _think_ about partaking in such activities.

Then again, their affair was proof that he had no regard for what others _might_ think of him.

"Gabriel what happened?" She anxiously exclaimed as she got out of the car.

"I need--I need you to---" He faltered.

There was a crunch underneath her feet. She jumped back to see a semicircular golden shard on the pavement. A hand went to her mouth as her eyes followed the trail of broken pieces to the welcome mat.

A black cat was on its side. The last part of what might have been a bell hung from its collar. It didn't move.

"Oh god," she sucked in some air. "Oh god."

"I blacked out I--" he grimaced.

Her heart was pounding. A hand was on the door to keep her steady. This was _bad._ Whatever he was on was making him react violently. Was it cocaine? Heroin? Meth? She had to get him to a hospital _fast_ before he went through another drug induced rage.

"What did you take?" She asked as she opened the door. 

"I--did--didn't take--"

"You have to tell me the truth! What did you take?"

"You wouldn't believe me," he mumbled. "The necklace--"

"It'll make it easier when we get you to urgent care. What did you _take?_ Where's the stash?"

"I can't go to a doctor!" His face turned pale white. "I can't--"

"Is it in the study?" She asked, knowing that it was where Gabriel spent most of his time at home.

"Don't--don't--"

She started up the stairs. He ran after her.

"Nathalie--Nathalie don't--"

She turned the corner and faced the door. He grabbed onto her arm.

"Don't--don't scream."

"Let me go!" she shoved him off. Her hand turned on the knob.

She thought she was going to be sick.

Gabriel caught her as her knees collapsed. The smell of stale blood clogged her nostrils and she squeezed her eyes tight as the shock overcame her.

_Oh god oh god oh god_

A chilling calmness washed over her. Her chest sunk as she straightened her posture and met his gaze again. 

"Help me," he pleaded.

"What do I need to do?"  
***************************************  
He managed to pull himself together. She was still in a daze as she helped him move the bodies to the trunk and forge the ransom note. Listened as he made the call while she cut up his dirtied shirt into shreds and threw it into the fireplace.

Then they were driving along the outskirts of Paris. 

"I'll get you a new car," he promised. He smoothed his hair back and adjusted his spare pair of glasses. 

They pulled over on the side of the road close to a wooded area. Gabriel straightened his coat collar and lowered the brim of his hat over his forehead before getting out. She put up her jacket hoodie.

A burly looking man was waiting for them.

"The money?" He held his hand out.

"Here," Gabriel handed over the five thousand euros; fifty, hundred value bills neatly bound together by a purple ribbon.

The man flipped through the bills. He counted each one under his breath to make sure he wasn't being cheated.

He pocketed it.

"Now let's see what we've got."

Gabriel led him to the trunk and popped it open. The man pulled the garbage bag cover down. He wordlessly glanced at them before turning back to Gabriel. 

"The cat's easy to get rid of.There's a dead cat in the Seine, no one'll care; just be another stray. But if it's a woman; there'll be panic. I can burn the body unless you want her buried."

"Do what you see fit," Gabriel said flatly.

"Your secret's safe with me," the man assured him. "I don't ask questions."

Gabriel and the man took out the bag from the trunk and carried it deep into the woods. He returned alone. 

They drove back to his place in silence. She parked in the driveway.

His hand reached out and cupped her face.

"Stay with me," he begged.

Something stirred inside Nathalie for the first time in hours. She gasped as his forehead collided against hers and his fingers dug into her cheeks. His breath felt hot as his mouth covered hers; his teeth tugging her her lower lip, sinking down as she let out a moan. He never kissed her like this before; not even in their most heated of moments. It was like he had succumbed to an animalistic instinct that he had repressed for too long.

She gripped his hair and hungrily pulled him in.  
********************************************************  
She was cold.

Nathalie pulled the cover up more as she tried to fall back asleep. She groped about for the blanket she always kept on top but found it wasn't there. She sighed and lay back down. The satin sheets below her invited her back: so soft, and soothing on her skin…

This wasn't her bed.

She sat up with a jolt. The bed cover was red, not the blue she had at home. The sheets were a pale gold, not white. Her glasses were on top of a jewelry box on an unfamiliar nightstand. Her clothes lay in a pile on the floor. 

Gabriel was sleeping peacefully beside her.

A prickling sensation stabbed her skin. Her heart raced as her body began to shake.

Her head spun as she tried to keep her balance. She stumbled into the bathroom. She locked herself in the shower and turned on the hot water.

It cascaded over her. She closed her eyes as the tears dripped off her cheeks and into the drain. Her shoulders rolled back and she tilted her head up towards the shower rack. 

A woman's shampoo. Conditioner. A small razor.

She jumped back with a shout. A hand pounded on the glass. She forced the shower door open.

The room assaulted her from all angles.

A second toothbrush lying on the sink counter. An extra bottle of deodorant on the shelf. A fancy unopened perfume. A light blue towel that did not smell like him on the towel rack.

Her legs gave out as she sunk to the floor. The memories of the night before flooded her mind.

_An arm_

 _Five thousand euros_

 _

His eyes

_

Her hands covered her face. Her body rocked back and forth. 

_The cat_

 _Blocky handwriting_

 _

A smell like death

_

"Nathalie?"

_Death_

 _It smells like death_

 _

Death

Death

Death

_

He knelt before her. He had put on his glasses and a purple robe.

"How can you **live** with yourself?" She screamed. "She's **dead** Gabriel! She's **DEAD!** "

She let out a shrill sob. His arms pulled her close into a tight grip.

"We can't wake up Adrien,"he said as his fingers ran through her hair.

"Why… **why** " She spat into his shoulder. " **Why** "

"I'll take you home."

" **You bastard! YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!** " Her voice soared with a crack.

Her vocal chords vibrated but no sound came out. She collapsed into him as she felt her limbs tense up. The last tear fell.

She felt hollow. Her heart still pumped, but it was as if she were more dead than alive.  
************************************************************************************************  
When she finally returned to work, she was surprised to find that everything was normal. No one mentioned the investigation or troubled Gabriel about news of his wife. Yet the whispers came when his back was turned:

_It's been a month. I think she's dead._

_She can't be dead! I refuse to believe it!_

_What if it was one of those stalkers?_

_Maybe an angry pap_

Nathalie said nothing. It was better to let their fantasies run wild.The truth would devastate them.

She threw herself into her work and kept all contact with Gabriel to a minimum. She would have started to look into other job openings if it weren't for the text requesting a meeting at nine o clock on Tuesday.

She walked into the office that day to find her colleagues gathered around one of the computers.

"Don't let Gabriel see this!"

The nerves came back. They must have found a new lead. What if someone saw them driving that night? Found the cat?

"Don't let me see _what?_ "

Gabriel approached them. Her coworkers exchanged anxious looks.

"You didn't hear about the biographies?"

"Do I look like a man who has time to read?" Gabriel asked curtly. 

"They're about Coco Chanel sir and--and they're not the good kind."

"What did they say?" Gabriel was intrigued. 

"You should just see for yourself sir."

Nathalie leaned in so she could get a better look at the headline:

_Coco Chanel's Image Shrouded In Controversy As New Findings Suggest That She Was A Nazi Agent_

Gabriel stepped back. His expression was still neutral but a spark of anger lit up his eyes.

"Goddammit," he muttered. "She was _right._ "

He started towards his office.

"Nathalie?" He called out.

He closed the door behind her. She took a seat. She thought back to the list she made the night before:

_Gabriel I've done a lot of thinking over the past few weeks_

"We've both been through a difficult time," Gabriel started.

"Yes," she agreed.

_I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you._

"And I feel badly for what I've put you though."

_I've felt nothing but guilt and shame. I feel like a monster._

"I want to make it up to you. Would you like a promotion?"

Nathalie lost her train of thought.

"A promotion?"

"With Marie gone, I've found it hard to manage my life outside of work. I need an assistant and there's no one better equipped for the job than you."

"What would I be doing?"

"Managing the house, finances, supervising Adrien. Like your job now but less tedious, more free time, and better pay."

"Are you offering me this job because you're afraid that I'll tell someone about that night?" She asked.

"I know you won't tell," he said. "I trust you."

Nathalie looked at him straight on. She studied his light sky blue eyes, beady black pupils, the strands of gray that stuck out against waves of blond, and the remains of his wife's old necklace tucked into his coat pocket.

"What do you say?"

"I'll take the job but I have only one request; that we keep our relationship professional."

A look of disappointment crossed his face.

"Very well," he nodded. "You start tomorrow."  
**************************************************  
Butterflies jumbled about her stomach as she walked into the house. One of the staff was waiting for her.

"Adrien's in the kitchen. He's probably filled up the cat bowl again, the poor thing. I'll go get him."

It had been a year since she had seen Adrien. He had grown a little and his hair was a bit longer than last time, but his green eyes shone as brightly as his mother's had before.

"Aren't you my father's secretary?" He asked.

"I was," she answered. "But I'm his personal assistant now. And that also means helping you. Since your tutor couldn't make it today, I'll be in charge of your lessons."

"Are they gonna fire him?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Uh, let's get started shall we?"

They sat down at the dining room table. Adrien pulled the stack of books towards them. He grabbed his notebook and a pencil. Nathalie took out her reference sheet and scanned it to see where he was at.

"Miss Sancoeur---" Adrien started.

"Call me Nathalie," she said. 

He hesitated nervously before asking:

"Have they found out anything about my mother? If-if you're here, does that mean that she's dead?"

Her teeth clamped down on her tongue as the tears welled in her eyes.

"Don't say that," she said. "You can't give up on hope so soon Adrien. They're going to find her. I promise."

Her hand lightly placed itself over his knuckles. She stroked his hand as she composed herself.

"Ok," Nathalie said as she reached for the history book and opened it up.

"I'll read. You take notes."

He picked up his pencil and nodded.

"Chapter 6 Section 2:Resistance And Collaboration in Nazi Occupied France…"  
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_Hold onto your hats ladies and gentlemen: a sequel, **Soulless** will be coming to an archive near you! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Shout out to Dissolved Girl by Massive Attack for being my chapter writing soundtrack!_  
>  _I also did some doodledads of several scenes of the series here_ http://goofygoldengirl.tumblr.com/post/138492537237/so-while-writing-heartless-i-thought-why-not


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